A Puzzle, Complete
by ChimericalParoxysm
Summary: A series of occurrences finally lead Hermione to a conclusion.


AN: In response to Paris in December's Timed Tiers Challenge. My prompt was: Sirius Black is in love with Severus Snape, and Hermione Granger finds out.

* * *

When Hermione had first landed in the Marauder's sixth year, she hadn't considered this moment for even a second, and now here it was. Severus was on his way to the Whomping Willow, Sirius was staring broodingly into the fire, and James was dashing valiantly off to save her idiot future professor. She'd only been in this time since the beginning of September – less than three weeks ago – but the urge to shamelessly scold the insensitive prick before her was almost overwhelming. She took a deep, calming breath, attempting to swallow her indignation, and turned to Sirius.

She paused as her eyes fell upon his form. His hands tightly gripped the armrest, his knuckles white from the pressure; in fact his entire body was rigid, on edge. She knelt before him in concern, and when his eyes met hers she nearly gasped at the tortured look within them – a look whose absence she'd already grown accustomed to in this time. Her mind reeled back to that night in the Shack when she'd first met him… His eyes looked almost identical, and every part of her wanted to make it go away.

"I do. _Not_. Care," he ground out, apparently oblivious to her presence.

"Sirus," she said softly, foolishly jumping when he did, "what's the matter?"

His eyes widened in surprise, but he was saved the necessity of response as James burst through the portrait entrance.

"Mate," he gasped, "Snivellus – he went to Dumbledore. He _saw_, Sirius. Remus is going to be bloody pissed, and as for Dumbledore, mate, you're _so-_" He halted awkwardly as he noticed Hermione. "Er. Well. Dumbledore wants to see you in his office," he concluded lamely.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, promising him silently that answers were going to be necessary. She knew, though, that it wasn't their place to tell her – she'd corner them later when Remus was back. With any luck she wouldn't have to pretend her ignorance anymore.

James winced a little at her look before leading a now-steeled Sirius to the Headmaster.

She watched them go pensively. A brooding teenage Sirius, she already knew, was a completely unusual occurrence. He was always so happy and reckless and carefree… And as much as she'd love to just brush it off as remorse for his cruel joke – at the very least the realisation that Remus would be devastated – there was just something _off_ about it. '_I do. _Not._ Care.'_ She shook her head; she'd figure it out eventually.

* * *

A few months later, Hermione was still firmly planted in the past. The Headmaster promised he was close to finding the key to sending her home, but she rather suspected he already knew and was waiting for some sort of opportune moment.

Remus had finally forgiven Sirius, who was back to his regular self save for the increased ferocity with which he approached his favourite target. Hermione loathed watching him insult and attack Severus, and the fervour with which he did so was more than a little disconcerting. She had decided though, that perhaps he was just attempting to cover up his guilt for putting Severus' life in jeopardy. The realisation came in the aftermath of a particularly vicious altercation between the two.

"_Expelliarmus!"_ She shouted, unable to watch any longer. Sirius', James', and Severus' wands had floated obediently into her hand. Everything had been getting so completely out of hand lately, and she'd half a mind to go to Professor McGonagall – being disarmed would be the least of their problems if she did.

Ignoring their furious looks and words, she tossed their wands back, her eyes icy. "Raise them, and you'll only lose them again. Bugger off, the three of you." They hesitated, exchanging glares, and then reluctantly obeyed.

Satisfied as much as she could be, she strode towards the Great Hall, passing James and Sirius on her way.

"You should both be absolutely disgusted with yourselves," she hissed in frustration.

"Believe me, I am." The words were so soft, she couldn't quite be sure that she'd actually heard them, and when she turned to look at him, Sirius' face was perfectly masked. But it definitely made her wonder… Was he disgusted because he got disarmed by a girl? Because he bullied Severus? Was he still brooding about the Remus situation?

But, of course, she wouldn't ever get any answers, so she brushed it away once more.

* * *

It was breakfast, and shortly after Easter, when Severus stormed conspicuously from the Great Hall.

"I wonder what's wrong," Hermione said, turning to Lily who shrugged, pretending, as always, that she didn't care. Hermione resisted rolling her eyes. "I hope nothing's happened…"

"You hope in vain then…" James pronounced in a strange tone, like he wasn't really sure how he felt.

Lily, Remus, and Hermione instantly fixed their eyes on the messy-haired boy. He dropped the Prophet onto the table, displaying for them a pitifully brief article detailing the death of one Eileen Snape nee Prince.

"Oh no…" Lily gasped. Sirius' fork halted midway to his mouth.

"His mum?" Hermione asked softly. Lily nodded, aghast.

"Snivellus' mum's dead?" For all that Sirius tried to act impartial, his voice came out strangled. Hermione glanced sharply at him. He was definitely still acting strangely about anything and everything to do with Severus, and months later she was no closer to finding out why.

When Lily nodded numbly at him, he dropped his fork to his plate and sat, blankly staring into his eggs. The minutes passed by in an awkward silence as everyone dealt with their confused emotions, and then suddenly Sirius was stalking from the room himself.

"Mate!" James called after him. But Sirius didn't look back.

* * *

A couple of weeks after that Hermione was up late in the common room under the pretence of studying. Mostly, she was worrying about getting back home and about the war. _What if I never get back?_ She wondered restlessly. _What if-_

Her thoughts were abruptly halted as Sirius stumbled in from the corridor. His clothes were rumpled, his hair was a disaster worthy of a Potter, and his eyes were wide and bewildered.

"Sirius?" Hermione called tentatively. "Are- Are you alright?"

He started slightly and halted his winding progress. "Alright?" he asked, muddled.

"Er. Well, you look a mess. Did something happen?"

A ghost of something flicked across his face. It might have been a smile, it might have been a frown; she couldn't quite decide. "Yeah… I suppose it did," he whispered dazedly before retreating to the boys' dormitory.

Hermione could only stare after him in confusion.

* * *

She was back! Exactly where she'd left off. It was clearly the Christmas holidays of fifth year, and here she was in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place. _Home!_

"Harry? Ron!" she shouted excitedly, not remotely caring that they'd think her crazy for being so excited to see them only hours after they'd all gone to bed. She dashed up the stairs, not even sparing a disapproving look for the decorated House Elf heads on the wall. She _did_ spare a moment, however, when she heard pained noises coming from Sirius' room.

Her mind flooded with fear as she crept silently to his door and warily pressed her ear to it. The grunting was growing louder – was someone torturing him?

"Fuck, Sev!" The exclamation tore her from the door. Was Severus _hurting_ him? What should she do? Her mind rushed through a hundred thoughts as she remembered all the events from the past. They'd _hated_- She froze, realization hitting her like an impediment jinx. _They were-_

The door flew open, and Severus moved to occupy the doorframe. The smile on his face dropped abruptly when he saw her shell-shocked form, and a look of something similar to terror replaced it before being quickly consumed by his mask.

"I trust you to deal with this appropriately," he sneered to Sirius. Then he swept away – perhaps less gracefully and a little more hastily than usual.

Hermione looked awkwardly at the floor, her face burning. "So… Um, I'm back," she mumbled lamely.

"'_Mione?_" Sirius breathed, the current situation momentarily forgotten in spite of the slamming of the front door downstairs.

"Meaning the one that sang Karaoke with you when we won the Quidditch Cup in sixth?" she inquired with a grin. "Or the one that introduced you to the Room of Requirement? Or perhaps you mean the one that covered for you when you pulled that prank on Professor McGonagall…" She laughed as he picked her up and spun her around. Being someone else had helped her loosen up a little. She hoped she could hold on to that trace of immaturity now that she was back in her own time.

He set her down gently. "It's been bloody forever!"

"Not for me," she pointed out. Glancing past him, she noticed the rumpled bed sheets and a blush rushed over her face once more.

"So… This sort of explains a lot."

He laughed weakly, but made no reply.

"It's been a bloody long time… You love him then?"

Sirius blinked at her, clearly thrown off a bit. "You're not going to freak out and denounce my dishonour to the world?"

She laughed and punched him lightly. "Of course not, you idiot. Now answer the question."

A smile spread across his face. "Love? Well, I don't know that I'd call it that. Not in front of him, at least, but yeah, it might as well be."

"Butterflies?" she inquired, businesslike.

"Check."

"Lustful feelings and fantasies?"

"Check."

"Vague imaginings of the future?"

"Check."

"I think you're probably certifiable then, mate," she pronounced with a grin.

He laughed. "Certifiably _something_ anyway."

"Gonna tell him?"

"Not a bloody chance."


End file.
